


I Can Always Reset Again: The Run with the Poison

by OsisHastoxett



Series: ICARA [4]
Category: Undertale, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Evil Plans, Flowey Is A Dick, Flowey-ex-machina, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mental Coercion, Mental Instability, Papyrus is smol, Pre-Canon, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8779459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OsisHastoxett/pseuds/OsisHastoxett
Summary: After another run with the jar, Flowey reveals some harsh truths to Papyrus.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story starts from the last chapter of the first part of this series (The Run with the Jar), so if you haven't read that first some of the stuff in this won't make a lot of sense.
> 
> And as always: contains swearing.

Papyrus was lying on his bed with the jar of Sans-dust next to him, avoiding all communication with Alphys and Undyne. He didn’t want to deal with them, with their questions, not now, maybe not ever. He was too tired and depressed to talk to his friends, no matter how much they cared or worried about him.

He was in the middle of reminiscing when his thought was interrupted by a loud crashing and the sound of glass shattering. He bolted up and hurried to the hallway.

Reaching the stairs he spotted Undyne climbing through a broken window.

“You smashed my window!? And now you’re breaking and entering! Since when does the head of the Royal Guard break into monsters’ homes?” he complained descending the stairs.

“You didn’t leave me much of a choice,” she stated. “Paps, we have to have this talk. So we’re doing this _now_.” Glancing around her, she finally noticed the current state of the living room. “Err, Paps? What the hell happened here?” she asked, assessing the damage. Papyrus crossed his arms defensively but didn’t answer. He stared at the floor. Undyne came up with her likeliest theory, which happened to not be all that far from the truth, and decided to ignore the broken furniture. “Can we just sit down for a bit, please?” she asked him, gesturing towards the couch. Papyrus nodded glumly and they both sat down. There was a moment of silence.

“I need you to tell me what happened to Sans,” Undyne said in a sensible tone. “I know this is the hardest thing in the world, but you _gotta_ tell me.”

Papyrus could feel panic surging inside him. He was in enough trouble already; the last thing he wanted was to cause more pain to anyone else. He had to lie. He had to. _Tell her something, anything, not involving flowers_. The one feasible lie he could think of was awful, but with response time running out, he went with it.

“S-sans, he…” Papyrus paused, internally confirming that this was the lie he was going with, “he did it to himself.” He closed his eye sockets to avoid having to look at Undyne, missing her shocked expression. She took a moment to process the thought as her expression slowly shifted to commiseration and grief.

“Sans… killed himself? ” she confirmed cautiously; Papyrus nodded, wrapping his arms around himself in shame, feeling guilty for what he was telling her.

“Paps, I am so— _so_ freakin’ sorry you had to go through something like this,” she tried consoling him but she knew full well no words in the world could make Papyrus hurt less; pain like this was going to be long term.

Papyrus tried his best not to cry, the last thing he wanted was for her to see him at his weakest, when he was this emotionally destroyed. Not that he any longer had any hopes of joining the guard; he figured his fate was mostly up to a certain murderous flower. Maybe Flowey will just kill him too and he could be done with this pain and misery for good.

Undyne moved a little closer and put her hand on top of his. “Paps, if there’s anything I can do…” she tried.

“There’s not,” he interrupted. “There’s nothing you can do. I have to live with the choices I made, including not being able to help Sans or save my brother from this fate.” Undyne squeezed his hand, trying her best to be supportive; dealing with grief was not one of her talents.

“I, I just need to be alone,” Papyrus sniffled, turning away from her concerned gaze. Undyne felt out of her element trying to be soft and comforting; glancing around the wrecked living room, she figured her skills might be better used doing instead of talking. “Do… do you need help cleaning up this mess?” she queried.

“Yeah,” he sighed, feeling guilty he had ignored it for this long; he did need the help. She looked glad to hear it; it gave her something to do, a way to be useful.

 “I mean, I did totally smash your window in, the least I could do is clear up a bit,” she admitted bashfully, getting up to get started. “Don’t worry, I got this covered. I will attack the problem head on, this place will be good as new before you know it!” she boasted.

Papyrus still looked mostly defeated. “Do anything you want, I just wanna get back to Sans,” he said, getting up and heading up the stairs. Undyne noted how heavy his steps looked and figured some rest was probably the best thing for him right now.

She ended up fixing the window with cardboard and duct tape. She swept all the splinters, glass and sprinkles off the floor; she located the pet rock, and placed it gently on top of the television. She did her best to fix the table but ended up with what can only be described as an avant-garde wood sculpture. It would have to do; she figured whatever Papyrus did to wreck his living room this badly was most likely out of his control.

Happy enough with her contribution to the state of the living room, she headed up the stairs and knocked gently on Papyrus’ door. He invited her to enter with a soft whimper and she entered the room, finding Papyrus in bed hugging the glass urn. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked graciously.

Papyrus looked at her with a pained expression; “I don’t have any food,” he admitted miserably.

Undyne jumped at the chance to oblige her desolate friend once more, “I can take care of it!” she announced quickly, “You just regain your strength, I’ll go buy you some groceries.” Papyrus smiled weakly at her, fueling her fire to make him feel better even more.

“I’m gonna bring you whatever you need,” she assured him again as she slipped back out to the hall, stamped down the stairs and marched out the door. She figured the Snowdin store should have everything she’d need and headed straight towards it.

The air felt unusually cold against her scales as her thoughts drifted from Papyrus to Sans… the person who had set this in motion. She still could not figure out how Sans could have been that selfish, to do something that horrible to Papyrus, his own devoted brother. Undyne’s mind couldn’t come up with reason enough to justify what Sans had done or accept how it had affected Papyrus, perhaps even ruining part of her relationship with him in the process. It made her blood boil when she imagined what Papyrus had been through, witnessing his brother’s suicide and it just deepened her hatred towards Sans’ actions. She squeezed her fists tightly to stay calm as she neared the store.

All she wanted was to somehow help Papyrus get though this, to be there for him; she just wasn’t sure how to best accomplish that. But she knew one good step was going to be bringing him sustenance and she had no intention of failing that.

She entered the store and grabbed a shopping basket as the rabbit lady waved her a cheery welcome. Undyne waved back before heading over to the closest shelf and began inspecting the selection.

 _Do skeletons eat barley?_ She wasn’t even sure what that is. She grabbed one anyway; also adding cans of tuna, spam and beetroot to her basket. She found apples and carrots available, as well as some cheese, including them all to the pile. There was also freshly baked bread that she counted in as a must have.

At the pasta section she took all the spaghetti that was there, figuring it was going to be the main ingredient in everything. She hauled all the products over to the check-out counter before realizing she wasn’t carrying any gold; originally she had come to Snowdin to break into Papyrus’ house, not to go shopping.

“Hey, umm, can I get this on credit? I’ll stop by tomorrow and pay it off,” she suggested. The shop keeper smiled at her happily, “Yes, of course Captain Undyne, anything you need.”

“Great, thanks,” Undyne said, making sure her smile was wide but friendly, not wide and menacing like it tended to naturally be.

The rabbit monster packed her purchases neatly and carefully in a bag, which Undyne was thankful for since she knew she would have crushed most of the pasta shoving it in there.

She left the store feeling a little calmer, confident that her loot bag would be of great help to Papyrus.

The house felt heavy and silent when she got back and unpacked the grocery bag, making sure Papyrus had all the essentials he’d need to get by. The severity of his depression worried her though; it was obvious he wasn’t currently looking after himself much at all. Undyne had never seen Papyrus’ house in the shape it was currently in; even after all her heroic cleaning efforts, it was a mess.

None of the less, she still had many other responsibilities going on in her life, so the best she could do right now was to go and have a quick word with Papyrus before she’d need to leave. She found him still in his bed, looking teary-eyed.

“Hey, Paps, there’s plenty of food in the kitchen now, go grab what you want,” she smiled fondly at him. Papyrus sat up on the bed, one hand holding onto the jar and nodded. “Thank you,” he said softly, “I mean that.”

Undyne sat next to him on the bed and put her arm around him. “You gonna be okay punk?” she asked with an encouraging tone.

“No, probably not,” he whispered with a slight tremble in his voice.

Undyne hugged him firmly, trying to think of something comforting to say, but drawing a blank. “Hey, I’ll stay longer if you wanna talk,” she offered. Papyrus shook his head. “Not today,” he squeaked, “I’m too tired.”

“Then go eat something, please?” Undyne asked, trying to make eye contact. Papyrus nodded bleakly and stood up, avoiding her gaze. She settled for escorting him to the kitchen and making him a crude sandwich of a slice of cheese on top of a piece of bread. He seemed happy with it and ate her offering gladly. As the sandwich vanished, Undyne realized she was now running late.

“Umm, Paps? I really have to get going now,” she announced gently.

For a moment, Papyrus just sat silently, before nodding and finally returning her gaze. “I’ll see you later then,” he half-said, half-asked; watching her closely.

Undyne smiled heartily, nudging him affectionately on the shoulder. “Yeah, totally,” she confirmed.

She returned to her guard duties feeling a little conflicted about the whole Papyrus situation.

                                                                                       ---

After patiently waiting in his cave for hours for the loud fish and his favorite toy to appear so that the battle could start, Flowey began to suspect they weren’t coming after all. _Something must have varied_. He knew it only took a minor shift in the timeline to open up new possibilities for him; this must be one of those chances.

If the Captain wasn’t here demanding justice, it had to mean Papyrus hadn’t told her the truth this time. He wasn’t sure why such a change had occurred this time around, but he welcomed the surprise gladly; he wasn’t too bummed about not getting to see Papyrus potentially take out Undyne at his command, he’d witnessed it a couple of times by now. Now, he just needed to see what other direction he might be able to push this particular run; what else could he get his puppet to do?

Sans was still conveniently out of the way, so he had an option to be unusually truthful with Papyrus about how much power he really had over their situation. He had to admit he enjoyed watching Papyrus try to come to grips with the reality of his existence whenever he did learn about it; it was strangely fun to watch the skeleton squirm. It was like getting to perform the miracle of being able to make a previously blind person able to see the world for the first time, over and over again; even if every time their world turned out to be a much more treacherous and horrifying place than they had ever imagined.

He figured it might be better for him to wait for Papyrus to come to him; there would need to be some form of confrontation sooner or later, but Flowey didn’t want to rush his fragile little toy too much. If he paced this right, Papyrus was going to be easier to handle.

                                                                                       ---

Papyrus was folding laundry when he realized he couldn’t stay locked in the house forever. Not while _he_ was still out there, with his stupid petals and deceitful smile; him and his evil plans… Papyrus shuttered at the thought he had been actively trying to avoid: _Flowey_.

At some point he would have to go face the person who had maliciously ruined his life. Papyrus figured he likely wasn’t going to survive the ordeal, but he felt like he didn’t have much to lose anymore anyway. He missed Sans; joining his brother sounded quite appealing, at least the hurt would finally stop. He was mentally now at a point where he was simply willing to risk it.

Papyrus observed his collection of action figures carefully.

“Someone’s getting tasked with keeping Sans company while I’m away,” he informed his troops.

For some reason his gaze was drawn to Tactical Stuart at the edge of the desk; the ranger looked determined enough for this important job. He grabbed Stuart and took him over to the bed, placing the hero gently next to the jar.

“Now,” he instructed his soldier, “if my brother gives you any trouble, just tell him some army related puns, that will be sure to calm him.”

Knowing full well he might not be coming back, Papyrus clonked his skull against the jar one more time and caressed the side of the glass with his hand. Fighting back his tears, he tried to utter the words he knew he needed to say, but ended up choking down a sob instead.

Papyrus whined as he tried to gather up any remaining shreds of inner strength and go on with what he had to say before he could leave and face whatever horrible end awaited him. The problem was he didn’t want to; he didn’t want any of this. He didn’t want to let go of Sans and he didn’t want to say it…

Papyrus took a deep breath and closed his eye sockets. No other options left. He felt gutted and drained.

“Goodbye Sans,” he whispered, “I love you and always will.” He planted a little kiss on the lid and got up, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his shirt and made a quick exit to the hall. A feeling of inescapable doom washed over him, making his bones rattle.

A chain of bad decisions had lead him here and he feared he was about to make another one by going to confront Flowey, but what else could he do? Ignoring his pain wasn’t getting him anywhere either. He knew no words in the world could make this right but he should get it off his chest; he had lied to Undyne for a reason, so he could deal with this on his own. Whatever terrible thing had driven his former friend to turn on him, to turn to murder, he just had to know what had happened. Papyrus needed to know _why_.

Thinking back to that day, the part he had played and how easily Flowey had slain Sans filled Papyrus with a rage he had never known. The way he had trusted that flower; how blind he’d been… only to end up here, broken and alone. It wasn’t fair.

Papyrus used his anger to get himself in motion and headed out of the house. He knew he would find the yellow flower in their secret cave, what he needed to figure out was what to say to the brother killer.


	2. Chapter 2

Flowey looked almost relieved when Papyrus finally emerged behind the waterfall and entered the cave. “Howdy, friend!” he greeted out of ancient habit; Papyrus ignored his greeting.

“This is all your fault and I deserve to know why it happened,” Papyrus demanded dismally, not wanting to waste a second of his time on empty pleasantries.

“Of course you do,” Flowey cooed, faking sympathy. “And here it is: It happened because I felt like it; because I want to see where this path can lead us. The major difference between the two of us being that you can’t remember the other times we’ve done this, stood here having such a chat. Every time I reset the world back to the beginning, it’s a clean slate and I can do whatever I want all over again. That’s _why_.” Flowey smiled his usual wicked smile. Papyrus stood in place, stunned; this was not the reasoning he had expected.

“So fear not, my friend,” the flower continued, “all of this is merely a temporary existence. Once I reset again, all of this goes away. Your pain and anger are meaningless, don’t you see?”

“ _Meaningless_?” Papyrus fidgeted a little; nothing about this felt meaningless to him.  “What do you mean… _reset_? Like, _everything_? You mean you can make it as if none of this even happened?” Papyrus asked cautiously, trying to wrap his brain around it, “can… can you bring Sans back?” He wasn’t aware of how intensely he was holding onto his scarf.

“I can, well, I _could_ ,” Flowey stated matter-of-factly, “but why should I? What have you done this run to gain any favors from me?”

Papyrus twitched a little. “But… but with power like that, you could do so much good!” he said hopefully.

“Done it, did it, it got boring. Eventually, everything becomes boring; just another repeat. That’s why you’re my favorite, Papyrus; you have more variance than the rest of these sad chumps. Even though you don’t remember past timelines, you vary with your reactions a little; I like that, it’s rare,” Flowey explained.

Papyrus stared at him, trying to process. He felt like a puppet, discovering for the first time that there’s someone else pulling his strings. “So… we’ve done this before, stood here having this conversation? I just don’t remember it?” he was still struggling with the concept of multiple timelines.

Flowey nodded. “Well, most of the events that lead us to this point have, yes, and you just don’t remember them,” he confirmed, watching the skeleton’s expressions closely.

“And you’ve told me about this repeating timeline thing before?” Papyrus queried.

“I have,” the flower nodded again, “a couple of times, on a couple of different runs; just never in a timeline where you’d have the chance to tell your brother about it. This talk can only happen after I’ve already killed him off.” He swayed cheerily back and forth as Papyrus glared at him with an outraged expression.

“You won’t get away with this,” Papyrus murmured instinctively, before realizing how empty his “threat” was. Flowey giggled; they both knew he was getting away with this.

“Oh Papyrus, of course I will. As soon as you get your pathetic brother back, you won’t have access to these memories anymore. I will simply be waiting in the woods for you to stumble upon me and make friends with you all over again,” he chirped, showing off his evil grin.

Papyrus was stunned; realizing he was a pawn, getting played over and over, being toyed with while mostly remaining oblivious. He cursed inwardly at Flowey, but had to admit that a part of him was very glad he couldn’t remember everything the flower was referring to.

A heavy gloom washed over him and he frowned at Flowey. “How many times have you killed him?”

Flowey shrugged his leaves, “How should I know? I’m not keeping score.”

Papyrus couldn’t have looked more serious. “Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to you to deserve this?”

“ _Deserve_?” Flowey grinned, “Who said you deserve this? You haven’t done anything wrong, this isn’t a revenge thing. I’m not doing any of this because I hate you; I’m doing it because I _want to_. I wanna see what happens.” Flowey winked at Papyrus. Papyrus felt shivers going down his spine, he was mortified.

“Please, Flowey, if you were ever truly my friend, please just reset?” Papyrus implored, “I need this nightmare to be over; I’ll do anything you ask.”

“That’s a blatant lie,” Flowey derided. “You always say you’ll do _anything_ , but then when I ask you to go do something in exchange for the reset, say, murder Undyne for example, you won’t actually do it. You’d rather suffer the pain than end it with your own two hands,” he informed the confused skeleton. “She is not going to know you murdered her because she isn’t going to remember it, and neither will you!” he exclaimed, throwing some leaves up in the air for added effect.

“I can’t kill her; she’s my friend! “ Papyrus whined.

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Flowey snorted, rolling his eyes at Papyrus. “So for this one time, let’s hear your opinion then; what act in your mind is equal to the favor of resetting the entire world just for you?”

Papyrus was stumped. He had practically no bargaining chips since he could only remember the current timeline he was in. He still didn’t understand what it was that Flowey wanted; he figured he should ask. “Err, umm, what are you hoping to get out of this?” he queried cautiously.

“Something new, something I haven’t seen before,” Flowey stated. “Tell me, Papyrus, if you can’t kill your scaly BFF, would you kill someone else to get your precious brother back?”

Papyrus was frozen in dread. “Like… _who_?” he asked, knowing he probably didn’t want to hear the answer.

“The king,” Flowey smirked. Papyrus gasped.

“What?! No! Absolutely not! I am not murdering the king, that’s INSANE!” he squalled. “Besides, he’s much stronger than me; I would never win a fight against him!”

“I’m not asking you to fight the king, you idiot, I’m telling you to assassinate him. Be sneaky about it, that’s how you can get him. Take out the king of all monsters, now that would be something new, something worthy of a reset,” Flowey clarified, smiling. “I happen to already know just the right poison you can use; it’s what killed my sister.”

Papyrus jumped back at this new information. _Flowey had a sister? Who was poisoned?_ His head was spinning. “If you want the king dead, why don’t you just kill him? Clearly, you easily could,” he pleaded.

“I don’t care if the king is alive or dead, you dingus,” Flowey explained patiently “The point is it doesn’t matter one bit whether I kill him or not, or if you kill him; as soon as I reset he’ll come back, everyone will come back with no knowledge anyone got killed at all. We can both do anything, with no consequences.”

“Oh really,” Papyrus said sarcastically, “then can I kill _you_ please?” He crossed his arms defiantly.

Flowey shook his petals, “you’re out of luck there, friend, I cannot be killed.”

“I can’t kill the king, that would be most horrifying,” Papyrus repeated, still glowering.

“Well that’s just too bad for Sans, isn’t it? He’ll have to stay in dust form for quite a while,” Flowey said with fake sadness, his expression sprite blatantly mocking the skeleton.

“That won’t set any of this right!” Papyrus protested. “I don’t want to kill anyone, I just want Sans back.”

“Well you won’t get him back without giving me something to see first,” Flowey declared. “And it has to be something new, something that’s never happened before,” he clarified with a devilish smile.

Papyrus could feel himself panicking as he suddenly just wanted to run, to get away from this nightmare and that psycho flower he now realized was trying to manipulate him. Assassinate the king? This was so much worse than what he had known only yesterday. There was no way he could go along with this kind of plan; it was too heinous to even consider. He shook his skull vigorously, trying to shake the thought out.

“No?” Are you sure?” Flowey coaxed, “because I can assure you that this is going to be the easiest out I am offering you; the simplest way for you to get your pathetic brother back. If you do nothing, he’ll stay dead for sure and I can guarantee you your life will just keep getting worse.” The flower offered a victorious grin.

“Can’t get much worse than this,” Papyrus pointed out as he backed out towards the exit. “I’m leaving! You’re gonna have to do your own dirty work because I certainly have no intention of helping you,” he shouted, expecting vines to grab and stop him at any moment. Nothing happened though and Papyrus found himself jogging away from Waterfall in one piece.

None of the things he had just learned made sense but he was glad to still be alive and grateful to be able to go home and hug his jar once more. He picked up his pace and ran the rest of the way home to find the jar and the ranger doll still sitting on the bed just as he had left them. He hugged his Sans-jar, whispering desperate reassurances to it that everything was going to be just fine, even though deep down he knew it probably wasn’t.

It seemed unlikely Flowey would give up so easily, Papyrus figured he was going to be hearing about the assassination deal again. He just needed to stay strong; think about Asgore, not Sans. “ _Don’t get stupid, and don’t be selfish_ ,” Papyrus berated.

But once the thought was planted in his brain that he could theoretically get his brother back from the dead, there was no stopping his mind from swirling and looping around the idea. He went through the motions of eating and watching TV with his urn for company, all the while mulling it over, trying to weight his abhorrent options. He knew killing was always the wrong thing to do, but now he questioned how much right and wrong really mattered if Flowey had the power to erase it all at will.

At the end of the day Papyrus came to the conclusion that no matter what the circumstances, Sans would never approve trading someone else’s life for his, so Papyrus decided he was going to ignore Flowey and his vicious plans and try his best to move forward on his own.

Unfortunately, this Sansless existence wasn’t going to be a happy one and he knew that, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Papyrus found there wasn’t much to go back to. He was grateful to reunite with his jar but the house was still awfully empty and Papyrus discovered it was heavier now that he knew he’d been through this before.

_Repeating timelines_ ; the idea haunted him, learning he had lost Sans on multiple occasions, all the while Flowey watched from the sidelines; it was sickening.

He went through the motions of daily life around the house for a while, finding no enthusiasm for any of the things he used to get really excited about. The thought of going outside to build silly puzzles sounded so ludicrous Papyrus couldn’t have cared less. Being a sentry was out of the question too, it now seemed ridiculous to him to think a human would ever show up, what a waste of time. More and more he began feeling like nothing really mattered, everything was pointless and he was basically just killing time, waiting in the hopes that Flowey might decide to do this resetting thingy soon, for whatever reason.

The more he mulled it over, how different everything felt now and how much this knowledge had changed him, Papyrus was slightly glad Sans wasn’t around to have to—

Papyrus paused as the realization hit him.

_OH._

_MY._

_STARS._

“ _He knows_ ” Papyrus gasped. And suddenly, it all clicked in place, _everything_ made sense. “This is how Sans acts all the time. Because this is how he feels, all the time; because he _knows_.”

Papyrus felt like someone had just hit him in the face with a burnt pan. He sprinted to his room as fast as he could and found the jar sitting on the bed where he’d left it.

“Why do you have to be dead right now!” he yelled at the glass jar, throwing his arms up in frustration. “Sans! Holy smokes, _this_ is why, isn’t it? You know what Flowey does?” he approached the jar as if it could actually reply to him. “And you never told me?” he asked, before rethinking it, “Wait, have you told me? I wouldn’t remember, would I?” he could feel himself getting confused again. “ _Maybe he has told me_? I just forget as soon as Flowey does the thing” he contemplated; all the more annoyed that he couldn’t actually talk to Sans.

It all added up now; he was Sansing this, not giving a crap about anything because he knew it was going to just reset at some point. He was suddenly living his brother’s life.

Papyrus had never felt more alone.

It scared him to no end that he could not remember his own life; where he’d been, what he’d done, how many times he’d lost his brother… Or how many times he himself had died, probably murdered by that atrocious plant; Flowey clearly had a thirst for dust.

“ _Damn it, Sans, I wish I could fix this,_ ” Papyrus whispered, stroking the side of the jar.

“Or at least remember this the next time I see you,” he concluded sadly. But there was no way around it; he couldn’t just leave a note, it would reset too. He was destined to forget and there was nothing he could do about it.

He sighed sorrowfully, tapping the lid fondly. “I hope most of your memories of me are pleasant ones,” he told the vessel, “at least I _think_ I used to be great, maybe I can become great again.”

_The Great Papyrus_ , it sounded so distant now, _who was that guy_? He felt like he could no longer recall what real enthusiasm was like. “ _Flowey really did a number on me, huh_ …” he thought sourly.

He spent the entire evening talking to his jar, drawing strength and comfort from the inanimate container and his silent ranger companion; attempting to soothe the pain in his soul.

The one thing he knew he wasn’t going to try was to go to Grillby’s to get drunk; that would remain Sans’ exclusive right, but Papyrus had to admit even that made much more sense to him now. “ _He’s coping… he’s trying_ ,” Papyrus thought tearfully; he felt really bad for all the times he had yelled at Sans, even the times he knew must have been long erased. It wasn’t fun watching his brother drink way too much, but he certainly didn’t deserve to get screamed at for it, not the way Papyrus did it.

Some of the less pleasant memories of the way he had acted in the past regarding Sans’ laziness and attitude swirled around in his head, filling him with regret and shame. Oh, how blind he’d been, how clueless… If only he could get a chance to beg for forgiveness.

Papyrus swore he would go through hell for his brother if he had to, when the realization hit him that that was basically what Flowey had asked him to do: commit an unspeakable crime in exchange for getting Sans back in the form of a reset. Papyrus just abhorred the fact that the deal Flowey was proposing involved dragging yet another innocent bystander into this mess, _his_ mess; it was so wrong on so many levels.

He decided to go back to his plan of trying to not think about Flowey.

Eventually Papyrus’ brain got too exhausted, forcing a shut down and causing him to fall asleep.

                                                                                       ---

Papyrus woke up to another pointless morning but decided to get up anyway. He was already dressed since he hadn’t bothered to change into his pajamas even once after his talk with Flowey.

He felt like breakfast might be worth the bother though and headed downstairs, only to find a gaping hole in the middle of the living room floor.

_Oh crap_.

“Have you changed your mind yet?” Flowey peeked out of the hole, casually swaying from side to side as he grew taller to face Papyrus better. Papyrus crossed his arms and took the most defensive stance he could.

“He knows, doesn’t he?” Papyrus asked tiredly, “Sans knows what you do, about the multiple timelines.”

“He knows _some_ stuff,” Flowey admitted merrily, “he knows what I do happens, but not that I am the one doing it. So, like I asked, have you changed your mind yet?” The flower flashed a murderous grin.

“About killing the king? What purpose would that serve?” Papyrus asked indifferently, desperately trying to pretend he didn’t care.

“The purpose of getting your brother back faster,” Flowey asserted. “If you agree to this plan, I will erase this timeline as soon as the king is dead, pinky promise!”

“NO. Screw you,” Papyrus spat.

“Dawww, are you too comfortable, Papyrus? ‘Cause I can help fix that in a jiffy,” Flowey sneered, pushing his vines out of the earth. Papyrus tried to dodge the branch headed straight for his head but another vine grabbed his ankle, causing him to fall over as several other vines wrapped around his hips and spine, anchoring him in place.

Papyrus struggled instinctively, but figured Flowey had no intention of killing him; not if he wanted to see if his crazy-ass plan would work, he needed Papyrus to stay alive for that. It wasn’t much consolation to him though when he felt Flowey wrap around his wrists and neck too, vines strangling him with precisely calculated force; not lethal force, but hurting enough to make it challenging for Papyrus to pretend none of this was happening. He was trying very hard not to give his assailant any kind of reaction, but unfortunately Flowey was determined to get one.

As the vines on his limbs slowly but surely pulled him in four separate directions, Papyrus had to muffle a whimper. Flowey flashed him a little victorious smile, knowing his scraggy toy wouldn’t be able to ignore him for long and kept pulling. Papyrus struggled to keep quiet as the pain kept building up, pulsating through his bones, setting off every self-preservation system and warning alarm his body had.

“Are we having fun yet?” Flowey mocked with a teasing tone.

The grip of the vines tightened more, making Papyrus wince from the pain now radiating from his spinal column. He gritted his teeth and tried to think happy thoughts, but none came to mind. “ _You’re… crushing… my_ …” he tried to utter but the pain made it impossible for him to speak properly.

“I know,” Flowey grinned joyous as he added more pressure and broke Papyrus’ spine in several places with an unpleasant crack. Papyrus screamed like a madman, howling so loud the whole house echoed.

“ _There, there,”_ Flowey cooed, “you see? I can _always_ make things worse. So maybe rethink my offer one more time?” The flower smiled innocently. Papyrus shot him an outraged glare before he blacked out from the pain.


	4. Chapter 4

When Papyrus came to, Flowey was gone. He was still on the living room floor; every bone he could feel, aching. Attempting to get up, Papyrus found he couldn’t move his lower body, his legs weren’t responding.

He dug through his pockets to find he didn’t have his phone on him; it was still upstairs on his desk.

He was stuck.

Everything hurt and the only thing he could do was lie there, and try to heal his bones. He checked his HP; he had 3.

Papyrus groaned, trying to focus on healing. _Just breathe_ …

He figured his spine was the worst of it; he needed to fix that damage first to regain use of his legs.

He found it nearly impossible to stay focused though, his mind begging him for escape from the ache and throbbing. Ignoring the tears running down his cheek bones, Papyrus tried to stay still and avoid making movements all together. Crying wasn’t going to help, but the distinct urge to do so kept nagging at him, picking at his brain as he once again struggled to heal himself.

He wished Flowey had killed him.

A suffocating trepidation chocked him when he thought about how far Flowey might be willing to push to get what he wants, to get Papyrus to commit the most heinous of crimes. He was being forced to choose between suffering or causing suffering to someone else, and as Papyrus lie helplessly on the floor hour after hour, he began seriously considering the more awful but faster option. He needed a way out and Flowey was offering him one.

After ten hours of not being able to move much at all, Papyrus was convinced he could go through with it. If this is was what he had to do to get Sans back, to go back to building puzzles and hunting humans, to get to end this pain and be happy again; it now seemed worth it. “ _Poison the king and I’ll get to hear puns again_ ,” he thought, wiping stray tears on his scarf.

Fifteen hours after he’d regained consciousness, Papyrus began getting back his ability to move his lower body. He was still in pain, but tenaciously crawled to the kitchen to get his hands on something edible. He ended up eating a can of spam and raw carrots as he sat on the kitchen floor leaning on the cabinet, munching away.

Suddenly, there it was again: the worst voice in the world. “Yoohoo,” Flowey hollered, reemerging from the floor hole he had made without permission. Papyrus chucked a piece of carrot angrily at Flowey as he grew over to the kitchen and approached; Flowey didn’t dodge, letting the vegetable bit hit him on the stem and bounce off.

“Are we ready for some more pain, err, I mean _fun_?” Flowey asked, sticking his tongue out, snickering.

“No,” Papyrus sighed, “I’m done, I need Sans; I need this to end.” He buried his face in his hands. “I’ll do your horrible plan,” he said miserably.

Flowey smiled and bobbed like a tiny yellow cheerleader. “Perfect! Then let’s get you ready for action,” he rejoiced as he maxed out Papyrus’ HP. “Now, all I need you to do is arrange yourself a meeting with the old fool and meet me near the castle entrance tomorrow,” he instructed.

Papyrus looked heartbroken but nodded in agreement.

Flowey left happily to go fetch the most important part of his plan, leaving Papyrus once again alone in the kitchen. His bones felt better but his soul felt worse. _What the hell did I just agree to?_

With no turning back, Papyrus decided to let his emotions take over as overwhelming sobs rocked his whole body and he finally allowed himself to cry.

                                                                                       ---

The moment Undyne realized who was standing behind her door as she flung it open, she was grabbing Papyrus in a tight hug. He embraced her and tried to enjoy the little comfort her presence offered him. She invited him inside and they sat down at the table.

Papyrus knew he had to be quick and vague with what he was going to say so he decided to skip any small talk. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Undyne tilted her to the side, “Of course Paps, anything in the world,” she said sincerely.

He sighed deeply. “Can you get me a private meeting with Asgore?”

“Totally, no problem,” she assured, “why do you wanna talk to the king?”

“I just… figured… that he, like, knows about dealing with loss of family and that stuff…” Papyrus sniffled awkwardly, praying she wasn’t going to ask a lot of questions. Undyne couldn’t argue with that, so she just stared down at her tea cup and nodded earnestly.

“I’ll make it happen. I will text you the time tomorrow,” she confirmed.

“Thank you,” Papyrus stuttered, feeling like he might faint. He needed to get this over with as fast as possible and get away so that he could retreat back to his house to spend his remaining time with his jar. He hopped up from his seat and mumbled something inaudible, pointing towards the door.

Undyne could clearly see the distress on her friend’s face but decided to let him go without an argument. Perhaps talking to the king could indeed be helpful to Papyrus; determined to do anything to help him, she would arrange it.

As Papyrus stumbled out of her house with a rushed goodbye, Undyne felt a sting in her soul about the fact that she wasn’t anyone Papyrus was willing to open up to. She had tried to reach out to him a hundred times by now, but he wouldn’t even give her the time of day. It hurt her deeply to know he didn’t want her around during his hardest times of plight.

She slammed her fist again the table top in frustration, imagining what Sans had done and what was left of Papyrus because of it. But despite her strong feelings, she would give him space since it was clearly what Papyrus wanted. Alphys kept telling her he needed more time but patience was not a virtue Undyne possessed so it was very difficult for her.

She wished from the bottom of her soul she could figure out how to help Papyrus.

                                                                                       ---

With everything already set in motion, Papyrus tried to spend his last day focused on the reward: Sans would be there again. It was evident this timeline was not meant to be, so Papyrus wanted it over with quickly. He concluded he was willing to sacrifice a life to get back his brother’s.

What bugged him the most was knowing he was also sacrificing the insight he’d gained about Sans and what his brother’s world was like most of the time. He hugged his dust jar, now wrapped in Sans’ coat; snuggling against the fabric, missing his absent half.

“Sans,” he whispered. “I am so sorry I won’t remember your struggle after this is all over,” he said apologetically. “I’m doing this for both of us, so we can be back together real soon,” he assured.

He rewrapped the coat better around the jar and set them on the bed. “I’ll make you spaghetti when we next see each other,” he said, trying to sound cheery but his sniffling kind of ruined the effect. He set Stuart to stand next to the jar and patted the ever so diligent ranger on the head. “At ease, soldier,” he sighed, before making another quick exit from his room; hoping to avoid an overwhelming rush of emotion. He didn’t have energy for emotions; he needed this to be over.

Coming down the stairs, Papyrus looked around one last time, taking it all in. The living room looked like total crap with all the broken things and a big hole to avoid falling into. He spotted the lonely pet rock on top of the TV with no sprinkles on it. “My apologies for the neglect,” he mumbled under his breath, pocketing the small rock.

Papyrus left the house filled with worry and regret, but like he had already concluded, ultimately all he cared about at this point was getting Sans back.

                                                                                       ---

Papyrus found Flowey near the castle like he expected.

Flowey was holding a small vile of sickly yellow liquid wrapped in his vine. “Here it is,” he explained, nudging the vial towards the timorous skeleton. “You’re gonna go have tea with Asgore, and as soon as his back is turned, you slip this in his tea. It’s concentrated enough to kill even in smaller doses,” he continued nonchalantly like he was explaining a cake recipe instead of a murder plan.

Papyrus reluctantly placed his hands under the vial and let Flowey release his grip, catching the poison warily. Papyrus didn’t want to do any of this but _not_ doing it seemed to just lead to an even worse outcome. He had no idea when he had passed the point of no return but this plan now felt like a slippery slide there was no simple quitting from; coercion was clearly the name of the game here. Flowey had made it clear that going through with the plan was the easier, more pleasant option for Papyrus.

“Now, since we’ve never done this before, I can’t tell you what’s going to happen, but I will be there, by your side, supporting you the whole way,” Flowey smiled and pat Papyrus on the shoulder with a leaf. Papyrus grinded his teeth together, trying to suppress his hatred and pocketed the small glass bottle. This was his only way out.

“You just make sure you stick to your end of the deal,” Papyrus warned him, glowering.

“Hey, I pinky promised, didn’t I?” the flower smiled his demonic smile. Papyrus didn’t bother with another response, settling for trekking towards his final destination.


	5. Chapter 5

Flowey popped up at the royal garden and carefully surveyed the king’s tea table set up; two cups set at either side of the table with a kettle in the middle and a plate of biscuits, _how cute_. He reached for the tea pot and poured two-thirds of the tea on the ground, leaving just enough at the bottom for a cup or two and placed it back on the table. Then he situated himself to the side of the garden so that he was hidden amongst all the other yellow flowers but had a clear view of the table and chairs placed in the center.

It really was a peaceful and serene place; Flowey chuckled as to how different this space would soon feel. _Yup, there was definitely a scent of murder in the air_.

He froze in place as he heard the voices of Asgore and Papyrus approaching. They rounded the corner and headed over to the table as Asgore finished his story about trowels. The king motioned Papyrus to sit as he reached for his tea kettle and filled the cups best he could. He peeked inside the noticeably lighter pot and noticed the tea almost gone.

“Oh my, I could have sworn I recently filled this,” the king told Papyrus apologetically, “Will you excuse me for just a moment, while I get us some more. Please, enjoy yourself.“ Papyrus nodded and the king left with his kettle, humming as he headed back inside.

Sweating, Papyrus glanced around the garden looking for the flower he knew was watching.

“ _Do it now_ ,” Flowey whispered from his right side, “ _if you want your wretched brother back, this is your only chance_.”

Shaking like crazy, Papyrus reached into his pocket for the vial and squeezed it tightly in his palm.

“ _Hurry up_ ,” Flowey incited as Papyrus took his hand out and began trying to get the cap off the small bottle. His hands were trembling and he was half sure he was going to have a panic attack. Somehow, he managed to get the top off and pour the poison into the cup, mixing it with the tea without spilling it over. He pocketed the empty vial in a hurry when he heard the mellow humming of the returning king getting closer.

“ _Anything for Sans_ ,” Papyrus thought, tensing up in his seat as he tried to force a smile at Asgore who was smiling warmly; the large goat set down the freshly filled kettle and sat down opposite from Papyrus.

Papyrus squeezed his knees for dear life as he sat there watching the king pick up the deadly cup, still smiling at him. Papyrus knew this was his last chance to stop this, to change his mind and warn the king, but he couldn’t get a single noise out of his mouth.

It took all his willpower not to glance over to the spot where he knew Flowey was camouflaged; he didn’t want to know what was going through that monster’s mind right now. He kept his mute gaze still on the king as Asgore merrily raised his cup and drank the tea.

Papyrus could not move, could not speak; he just sat there, regretting everything he had done that had lead him down this cursed path. Everything felt frozen; everything felt surreal. He wondered how this could possibly be his reality.

The grin plastered on Flowey’s face kept getting wider as Asgore suddenly made a loud choking sound, his huge hands instinctively reaching towards his throat and a shocked look of horror spreading across his face. With a frightening realization the king stumbled out of his seat, fell down to his knees and began turning to dust right in front of Papyrus; it was the worst thing he had ever witnessed. And it had been his decision to go through with this.

Papyrus finally glanced over to where he knew Flowey was; the flower was smiling happily, swaying, leaves shuffling; he looked anything but horrified.

“You did it! Good job,” Flowey smiled and stuck out his tiny tongue, winking at his obedient pawn. Papyrus got up from his seat and backed away a few steps; he didn’t want to be anywhere near Flowey, or what was left of the king. All of his movements were shaky and cautious.

“You’re gonna reset, right?” Papyrus asked in a timid voice, “Make this all go away; NOW, _please_?”

“Yeah yeah, I will, I will; just let me enjoy the moment would ‘ya,” Flowey basked, “I haven’t made you do this in quite a while.”

Papyrus paused. “You said we’ve never done this before, that even you don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Well sure, I said that, but only because it makes it so much easier to pull you into the plan. That false belief, that everything is happening for the first time, it gives you _hope_ ; it makes it a safe bet that you will make the same decisions and do the same thing you’ve done the previous runs…” Flowey explained nonchalantly, “…which is poison the king,” he clarified with a devilish smile aimed at the appalled skeleton.

“We _have_ done this before,” Papyrus gasped in disbelief; he’d been played, once again.

“Sure have!” Flowey confirmed cheerfully, “I keep bringing you here time and again because the old fool never suspects it from you. He thinks he’s safe, and then… _WHAM!_ His sudden look of terror at the very moment of death is gratifying every time.”

Papyrus stumbled backwards in horror, trying to grab a hold of anything near him to prove he was awake and this was really happening.

“This is just too much fun to watch,” Flowey shrugged, eyeing Papyrus carefully as the now hyperventilating skeleton wrapped himself around a nearby tree as if he might be able to turn back time if he hugged it hard enough. He was done, across the line, reached his breaking point; Papyrus crashed heavily on the ground at the base of the tree and started crying.

Weeps of desperation filled the air as Flowey simply stared at Papyrus with a sadistic smile. Right now he wanted to ignore Papyrus for a bit; his toy could go on wailing for a while longer, even though he did intend to keep his promise of a reset.

Flowey moved on to once again inspecting the remains of the king, it had become habit for him to look it over. He tossed the clothes aside, leaving only the large pile of dust on the ground.

 _Dad’s dust_.

And as always, Flowey felt nothing. No matter how hard he stared at the light ashy remains of his father, knowing it should hold meaning for him, no emotion rose from it; he just didn’t care. His victory came from the successful manipulation of the timeline to lead them where he wanted, the complete control he had over events and monsters. At the end of the day, what he wanted was to always get his way; _always_.

He rubbed his leaves in the dust and spread it about, lifting it up just to watch it fall back down. Papyrus moaned and hiccupped in the background, still leaning on the tree but at least trying to regain control over his bones.

Flowey thought back to the days when he’d still been a living, feeling creature. He remembered the pain and fear he had felt when his father had gotten ill, and the immense burning he’d felt when Chara--

His thought was rudely interrupted by a weird howl. Flowey turned towards Papyrus to see why there was an unexpected scream only to be hit square in the face with surprising force by something grey and very solid. “DO IT ALREADY!” Papyrus roared at maximum volume.

Flowey shook off the shock of the impact and observed the projectile now lying on the ground; it was a pet rock. “Did you just stone me in the face?” Flowey glowered at Papyrus. “Where the hell did that come from? You’ve never done that before.” Flowey rubbed his face, making a hurt face even though all the damage was already completely healed up. 

“Well there! That’s what you asked for, wasn’t it? Something _NEW_ ,” Papyrus bellowed.

Flowey glanced down at the rock again, contemplating. “Technically, you’re right,” he admitted; he had _not_ seen that coming, “I guess you got me there, friend. But as I’m sure you realize, next time I’ll know and I’ll be expecting it.” He smirked devilishly, thinking about what else might follow the rock attack if he pushed back right now. But a promise was a promise; they could visit this option on some future run.

“I don’t care! Just make it stop!” Papyrus yelled desperately, wishing he had drunk the poison himself instead of the king. Why had he ever gone along with Flowey’s plan? Nothing was fixed and everything just kept getting worse.

“Yeah, yeah,” Flowey sighed, rolling his eyes, “I get it, I get it; these runs break you. I’m aware.”

Papyrus protested his breaking by wailing some more as it seemed to get the flower’s attention.

“Oh shut up, you whiny twat,” Flowey commanded, “stop crying and fight back, huh? Stop being such a wimp, you’re a seasoned assassin now!” he urged. Papyrus screamed out even louder, out of frustration and dismay, flailing his limbs in every direction. The flower observed the tantrum calmly.

“How about next time we’ll eliminate the arrogant fish too?” Flowey sneered, reaching for his controls. “ _Or that stupid scientist_ …” he thought to himself before hitting RESET.

 

The End.


End file.
